Post/Author/DateTime

Post

AvengedMutablegenus 04-17-04, 11:19 PM

In 1534 DR, all the famous spell casting harriers that we all know of have died out over several hundred years. Son of the Simbul and Elminster, Terath, 42 years young rules a new alliance of human and elven civilization know as Norahag, which spanned from Cormyr to Waterdeep and from Calimashan to the Silver Marches. Teraths rise to power was the result of a famine that swept most of Western Faerun and decimated the North. Left without a ruler of a council the only open lord of Waterdeep at the time, Terath had no choice but to offer himself as the ruler of Norahag. Evil rulers in the East decided that the legions of Norahag were out of control, for there were rumors speculating that this recovering Nation was planning to expand westward. The Red Wizards then begin a spell that would “Reset” Faerun. Unknowing of the consequences of their spell, after several years of mediation, several sacrifices of high level wizards and the most expensive and precious gems, during the night, all of Toril was shaken with an abrupt earthquake that shoke the very cradle of life. Karsus the ancient Netherese perverted arcanist was risen and The Shadow Weave was once again at level with the Weave’s power. The gods were shocked and were forced to walk the earth. This paved way to the second time of troubles. In which all of civilization was broken apart and Toril was separated into nomadic tribes and clans that roomed the earth. The only Supreme Being was that of Karsus that ruled in the Anauroch desert king of the shades. He claims ruler ship of all Toril, which is partly true, because there are no other organized governments of more than 500 large. Here we join the story of a man named Zark from an area previously know as Waterdeep, living in the wreckage and underground tunnels of Undermountain, with his family of 4. As night fell down into the silhouetted remains that allowed sun to pass into the tempary underground home of the Kalaway family, Zark’s daughter Kas came back from the high tower as people called it, which was once known as Blackstaff tower. Kas had seen nothing in the panoramic view of the city. Only the usal nomandic people called the Sachakas (Sah’aka) that gathered scraps of materials from the city. Kas looked more tired than she usally did. “Whats wrong honey?”questioned Zark, “Nothing, well, not really father…you see , I’ve been thinking lately, we’ve been lucky enough to have lived 14 years without being disturbed , but as we both know, it’s coming for us . Fate has been with us, but now I can feel it by the hour, getting closer and closer, the army of shades is upon us. I can feel it inside of me. By the week our material pile grows smaller and the salvage teams are getting less and less, we have no chance anymore, just no chance” Kas said with such a deep tone it toke Zark minutes to respond. “By Tyr’s sake I hope your wrong, we’ve both had a very long day , and we really should be getting to bed, I’ll post 5 additional guards tonight around the city, don’t worry honey, you’re safe here.” As they both walked in silence down the curving damp narrow unmarked paths of Undermountain they both thought to themselves what Kas had just said, and how true it really was. All the tribe was doing is dying slowly they didn’t have a chance for much at all. When they came to the fork in the tunnel they both went there separate ways and shortly following came across their bedrooms, if you can call them that. A simple dark stone room with a pile of lumber covered by an assortment of small animals furs that were crudly sewn together was what they called their bed. Their baggage lay close to their bed in case of a hasted getaway. Kas thought of the horrors of what could come, she had never seen anything, just vidid descriptions of the horrors of shades from her father. The night was cold and dry, unusually dry, usally the tunnel were quite a bit damp. Something was wrong, out of place. After about three hours, Kas and her father both heard something. Something that they hadn’t heard since moving to Waterdeep. It sounded like nails on a chalkboard, like the scream of a banshee it wailed out into the moonlight that sunk into Kas’s bedroom through the small cracks in the wreckage of the forgotten city. It was the wail of a million hungry spiders. The walls of Zarks bedroom were crackling down and the predigious parchments that laid adorned on the walls , old military awards for leadership in battle that Zark had won before he became the Governer of Sahakas. He woke in a sweat as he saw rocks crumbling down the dry limestone foundation of his makeshift home. Zark ran to one of the corners of his room, crouched down and lifting up a box that was supposed to hold grain , but was really the sacred container of the alert symbol of the Sahakas clan. He pulled the long spiral shaped bell of of the long brass instrument, blew into the dry wodden mouthpiece and it created a loud piercing sounds that awakening the rest of the clan in the same manner that Zark awoke. Kas jumped out of the bed, grabbed her leathery pouch , kicked upon the door and ran out into the dark halway and almost ran into Zark’s door a short 15 feet later. After a long whane of the odd alert sound created from the trumpet he turned around to see long hairy spider legs stretching out to claw at anything attacking it. The hole inside of the wall slowly got bigger until one spider came into the room, it hissed it’s high pitched wail which pierced Zarks ear-drum and threw him off-guard, which was Zarks last breath. The spider ripped open Zarks stomach as more and more spiders poured into the room, they started to break down the door and flooded into the hallway, and finally the spiders stopped, and a beautiful looking woman with dark blue garbs and a pearl amulet walked out she, was radianting a purple hue, it was the Queen of Spiders.